Collection of Random Poems

Battery Spencer - A Relic Lost In Time

News of the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor,

Initiated a vast network of coastal

Fortifications, and observation posts, to protect

The all-important harbor of San Francisco

And the Golden Gate Bridge. Every hill and

Knoll, along the Sausalito, bunkered down for

An imminent invasion. Soldiers moved out of

Their barracks and into batteries. As the days

And weeks progressed, the initial fear began to

Diminish. Nevertheless, the men remained

Committed to defending their home.

A chilling gust slithered up my spine.

Back curved forward, arms folded across

My chest, I made an effort to conserve the

Warmth that was swiftly depleting.

Tennis shoes sank into the damp earth

Of Battery Spencer. The curled trestles

Upon my head knotted into compacted hail

Stones, ferociously pelting the contours of

My face.

Blinded by the aggressive gale and rampant

Hair, my stagger lead into the heart of the

Pit. I imagined soldiers hastening from battery to

Quarters, stringing barbwire and daubing paint along

The concrete walls, while camouflage nets stretched

Over the sloping palpable edges. I imagined several

Men scrambling past my shivering frame into the

Ashen clouds spilling over the ridge. They must have

Wanted to witness the return of the Pacific armada.

Recollecting my bearings, I clambered

Up the worn, weed-infested steps. Graffiti now

Disguised the attempts of men avoiding war. Doors

And windows were no longer accessible due to the

Nailed wooden panels. Relics of a long forgotten

Era, withered away as expected from today's abuse.

Upon a platform, where an antiaircraft gun was

Once bolted, a wondrous view materialized before

Me. Across the mouth of the bay and out to the sea,

Cargo ships acknowledged the other with incessant

Bellows. The sister islands, the largest and most

Competitive of the harbor, were desolate and mute

As the sun began to nestle under the horizon.

Reflecting off the chalky mantle, the orange-

Red of the elegant Art Deco of the Golden Gate Bridge,

Bore a nearly seventy-four-year devotion and pride

To the many districts that encompassed San Francisco.

As the day grows late, the air becomes frigid.

The clouds advancing nearer concluded the city's

Performance, concealing the following act for another

Eventful day. Lights danced along the beams of the bridge,

Connecting the San Francisco area and the Sausalito hills.

There was no doubt that tomorrow will give rise to a new

Satisfaction. Upon that bluff, I contemplated this, while

The clouds came in through the Golden Gate.